


I'll Drink to That

by Heronfem



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen is a horrible kinky bastard and I love it a little too much, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Male Lactation, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4052332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dorian messes up a spell, Kinloch Hold was home to some kinky bastards, and Cullen is a little bit of a bad man (but they both love it).</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Drink to That

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this promt over at the Dragon Age Kink Meme: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14591.html?thread=55480063#t55480063
> 
> I keep wanting to punch myself for giggling over the title.

Boredom was one of the few things that Cullen genuinely hated. It was right up there with demons, casual Fridays that resulted in pantsless Chargers, and the sound of Lieutenant Rialla’s droning, monotone voice as she talked herself around to a solution to her problems that she’d already thought of. He was keeping his face perfectly attentive as she talked, nodding in all the right places, and silently wondering when, exactly, he would be able to throw her from his office so he could get some actual work done. Lunch had been and gone, and he’d missed it in favor of sitting here being talked at. 

Bored and slightly infuriated, he was only too overjoyed when the door to his office burst open to reveal Dorian, disheveled and clearly upset, wrapped in a cloak that appeared to be made out of a rather tattered curtain. The faintest scent of something familiar wafted off him, and in the back of his mind some memory stirred, hungry. For some reason, Cullen’s mouth was suddenly dry.

“Commander, I need to speak to you right away.” Dorian’s voice would have seemed level to everyone who knew him in passing, but after over a year of constantly being at his side, Cullen knew the difference. Dorian was upset, borderline hysterical, and right now Cullen couldn’t have been more overjoyed if Dorian was about to declare his love while playing the lute naked on a boat on Lake Calenhad. 

“Lieutenant Rialla, my apologies, but I simply must handle this,” Cullen said, trying not to sound gleeful at the thought. She protested but was quickly sent out the door, the bar falling firmly behind her. 

“Dorian,” he said, as Dorian looked at him with wide, startled eyes. “I’m sorry you’re not well but I really, _really_ couldn’t take much more of that, so I’m sorry if I seemed a little… enthusiastic at your pain. What’s the matter?”

Dorian held the cloak tighter. “Could we retire to your bedroom? I- I did something and I don’t know quite what to do.”

Cullen’s eyebrows rose, but he nodded towards the stairs. “Mind the hole in the floor. I’ll be right up behind you.”

Dorian climbed up with the cloak tight around him, and after a quick bite out of the now sadly crumbling sandwich on his desk, Cullen followed. Dorian was pacing when he emerged into his room, and it didn’t take very long to see that something was amiss. Where normally smooth, well tailored cloth hugged his fine form, as Dorian would put it, it was now misshapen into what was definitely not normal male lumps underneath. Cullen carefully grabbed him as he grew a little too close to the hole in the floor and pulled him over. The man was shaking, tears pricking at his eyes, and defiantly lifted his head. 

“I want you to know I was trying to do this to help, because we have an unusually high number of women who’re having trouble nursing, but it backfired,” he said, his voice wobbling. “And I thought I was going to be fine but it hurts so badly and I couldn’t figure out what to do.”

He fumbled the clasps on his shirt open to reveal rather large, uncomfortably swollen breasts. 

“Oh, poor thing,” Cullen said, gently lifting the near purple breast and thumbing over the nipple. Dorian blinked back tears, shifting uncomfortably. The light from the hole in the ceiling came down on his skin, turning him into a beautiful bronze figure, and Cullen couldn’t help feeling a bit of proprietary joy that it had been _him_ Dorian came to first.

“I tried massaging them,” he said, his voice wobbly. “But that just made them worse. Dispelling wouldn’t work.”

Cullen tutted, gently tugging at one of the nipples. Dorian squirmed, biting back a pained noise, and Cullen couldn’t help his smile. Ah, for once good memories. “Well, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Dorian made a face, blinking quickly to keep the tears back. Taking pity on him, Cullen gently pulled him down onto the bed, kicking off his shoes. “Well, the bad news is that you’ll have them for a week. The good news is that I’ll keep them drained for you so you aren’t in pain.”

“How do you know it’ll last a week?” he asked, his voice very small, and Cullen firmly squashed the bit of his brain that wanted to take full advantage of the suddenly soft, pliant mage in his bed. Dorian squirmed onto his side, looking utterly miserable, and the feeling eased a little.

“The spell was developed in Kinloch Hold,” he said, pulling his armor off and hanging it on its stand. “I saw the first effects of it. There were a few people who thought that the Knight Commander actually kept the spell on constantly. He had the First Enchanter had an interesting relationship, to put it mildly.” 

Dorian stared at him as he stretched out from the days pain, now down to his linen shirt and breeches. “Are you telling me that the First Enchanter made this for- for sex?”

“Not quite. It _is_ meant for young mothers having difficulty, as a way to kick start the process. Irving was simply the first one to test it.” He climbed onto the bed and gently pushed Dorian back over so he was on his back, fetching the bottle of lotion he kept for when his hands cramped from writing. “You’re going to be quite uncomfortable for this first little while. And you’ll need to come to me early in the morning and in the evenings, since you’ll be swollen back up by then.” Dorian nearly flinched as Cullen carefully, gently smeared the lotion on the first of the inflamed things, carefully rubbing it in. “This has elfroot in it, to help stave off the pain. You’re going to be achy all week.” 

Dorian made an unhappy little sound, and Cullen soothed him softly, murmuring, “It’s all right, I’ll be done with this part soon.” He could see the difference already, and smiled at the sight of tiny beading on the first breast. “See? Leaking already. You’ll be dry soon.” Giving up on staying neatly to the side, he straddled the mage to keep him pinned. Dorian squirmed, blinking up at him with wide, trusting, slightly teary eyes, and _oh, that shouldn’t press as many buttons as it did_. 

“Stay still,” Cullen said, sliding a hand under Dorian’s rib cage to anchor himself, and leaned down to gently mouth the tender, almost purple skin into his mouth. Dorian shuddered under him, a delicate hand squeezing his shoulder as Cullen started to gently suckle. He was so swollen and so _warm_ , and Cullen couldn’t quite help the noise of pure delight when he tasted the first of the milk. It was sweet and yet a bit musky- perhaps an effect from being from a near constant drunk- and utterly delicious. Dorian’s hand went from his shoulder to his hair in a heartbeat, fingers tightening on the strands as he melted.

“Don’t you _dare_ stop,” he panted, and Cullen smothered a smile. He wasn’t about to tell Dorian that if he could keep him this way forever, he would. He gulped greedily, tongue flicking over the tender skin to make Dorian keen and shift, but he was pinned firmly. Dorian was going nowhere until he was completely drained, and if Cullen had his way, he wouldn’t be going anywhere after. He could feel Dorian getting hard under him, likely the combination of being pinned and suckled at the same time, and he couldn’t help the smile that time. 

They’d been dancing around this- this whatever it was for the past two months. Dorian would flirt over chess, Cullen would awkwardly try to respond since anything outside the physical realm was apparently past him, Dorian would ask him to dinner, Cullen would go and be flirted with more, Dorian would leave and be fucked five ways from Sunday by Trev and the Iron Bull, who were only too enthusiastic to let in the mage to their relationship, and Cullen would go to bed and work himself until he had to bite pillows to keep from waking Skyhold up with his screams.

No one said it was _healthy_.

But now he had Dorian in his bed, and he intended to keep him there. 

“Len,” Dorian gasped, hips jerking a little. “To-to the other, _please_ , it hurts.”

With one last suck and a soft pop, Cullen pulled off and licked his lips in satisfaction. He knew full well that his pupils were huge, making him look feral, but this was utterly worth it. He leaned in to take the other, this time mouthing softly over the aching skin to gently tease while Dorian squirmed, needy in his grasp. “ _Still_ ,” he murmured against Dorian’s skin, his hand trailing down to cup and force down Dorian’s hip. It was entirely too satisfying when Dorian did as ordered, meekly freezing in his grasp. “Good boy.”

There was a strangled noise from that just as he took the first suck, Dorian’s hand tightening in his hair as his hand came up to hold onto his neck. The milk was just as sweet, just as thick and creamy, and Cullen felt the familiar sensation of sinking into a comfortable, sated bliss. Honestly, the milk was better than sex, filling him with easy warmth that stole away the chill of Skyhold. It was almost better than lyrium, sending him into a sweet, drugged sate. He barely noticed when he started rutting against Dorian, chasing every bit of milk he could. The first day or so Dorian would only be producing a little, just to get him nicely filled out and started, but as they days progressed he’d make even more, particularly with twice daily milkings. He nuzzled the softness of the breast, sucking hard to make Dorian shudder, his hips struggling to match Cullen’s while pinned down. 

“Patience,” he growled, pulling off and looking up at Dorian. “You’ll take what I give you.”

Dorian whimpered, cock jerking, and Cullen gave him a wicked smile before settling back in to suckle him dry. His cock was leaking thickly by the time he finished the first, and he spared a moment to bury his face in Dorian’s neck, inhaling the scent of him. He was just _perfect_. Lingering lyrium, lavender from the soaps, old books, grapes and wine, and under it all, that faint milky scent guaranteed to drive Cullen to sin. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. After they’d found out about the spell, a few of the mages had tried it out of curiosity. Cullen had been invited for a taste, a rare group event with mages and templars, hidden away in dark corners of the library, and had soon learned to love it.

Dorian tasted wickedly delicious, the musk gone and the sweetness remaining.

Fingers pulled lightly on his hair, and Cullen ground into him, groaning. “Fuck,” he breathed, tongue darting out the taste his skin.

“Please,” Dorian said, all meek desire, and Cullen’s hips sped up a bit. Later, he knew he’d be horrified by how insanely turned on he got at the sweet sound of Dorian pleading with him, but for now all he wanted was to _take take take_ and make his.

“Mine,” he hissed, fingers digging in tight to Dorian’s hip as he came. He shuddered his way through it as Dorian arched up, sweet little noises in his ear making him sink his teeth into the soft skin of his neck. 

“Len,” Dorian begged, and the nickname had Cullen’s pride roaring conquest. “Len, please, please, I’ll be so good for you…”

Cullen ran a soothing hand down the curve of his torso, settling back to kiss the still largely full breast. “You always are,” he said approvingly, and leaned in to suckle again as Dorian made the quietest noise of happiness. The little shard of jealousy that had stuck in him when Dorian had started sleeping with Trev and Bull wormed its way out, and pride took its place. Dorian came to _him_. He was almost giddy with possessiveness, everything in him chanting _mine mine mine_ as his hand slid down to gently slide down, past the soft breeches and softer silk. 

“Len, please, please, please,” Dorian whispered, his free hand going to tighten on Cullen’s shoulder as Cullen smiled, slowly wrapping his fingers around him. He could faintly see a blush darkening Dorian’s skin, and need had little moans and whimpers flying- music to his ears. It had been some time since he’d had a hand on a man other than himself, and oh, he’d missed it. _Actually_ missed it. 

He kept his touch firm, unmoving as he gathered a mouthful and leaned up, kissing Dorian until he opened his mouth to take the milk. Cullen felt a bit of triumphant joy as Dorian swallowed, eyes blown wide. 

“Oh,” he whispered, and Cullen chuckled, stroking him slowly as they kissed, keeping it languid. Dorian was becoming a shivery wreck under him, near desperate with need but controlling himself enough to only beg when they needed breath, little whimpers of desire and tiny, breathless pleas for more.

“So perfect,” Cullen breathed, moving back down and suckling again. The milk was so sweet and thick on his tongue, he knew he was coming to the end. He let his hand speed up, and Dorian’s scream as he took the last of the milk and came was music to his ears. Cullen kissed the breast he’d just finished, working Dorian gently through it until he was twitching away from the touch. Smiling, he leaned up to press their foreheads together, breathing with him as he came back down.

“Good boy,” he purred, and Dorian shuddered in his grip, sex dazed eyes opening to meet Cullen’s.

“You,” he rasped, “are a man of hidden depths.”

Cullen laughed, and kissed him warmly.

oOo

Seven months later, Cullen woke up to Dorian straddling him, dawn streaming in from the open trap door in his ceiling. He’d been persuaded into letting it be fixed with the condition he could still open it up to see the stars. The builders had done a remarkable job, and Cullen smiled as he saw his now husband blushing brightly, looking down as the sun burnished him into a bronze idol. 

“Sweetheart,” he purred, pulling him down for a kiss. “Krem’s going to start raiding your clothes to destroy them if you keep stealing his binders.”

“Yes, well, I like it,” Dorian said petulantly, smiling into the kiss as soft breasts heavy with milk brushed against Cullen’s chest. “It lets me surprise you once in a while, because _you_ , amatus, are a bad man.”

“I’ll drink to that.”


End file.
